


Crashing

by Elywyngirlie



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Fingering, Oral Sex, Porn Without Plot, Showers and sex, Smut, pure filth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:21:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22117825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elywyngirlie/pseuds/Elywyngirlie
Summary: She was the desert and he was the monsoon, overcoming, waves upon waves of greed and need and mouth and tongue
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 8
Kudos: 79





	Crashing

**Author's Note:**

> Found this while cleaning up my drive today. Written in 2017 so it is most likely conceived as them getting together as a respite from the war. I believe it is where I wanted "That Blooms in Adversity" to go but they had sex in Rey's AT-AT. No fresher there.

The slap of her skin on the cool tile, the scrape of teeth against lips and tongues, the needling of the hot shower on the flesh sizzled her nerves, drew her edges raw enough that she was afraid she would dissemble, fall apart at the merest touch. As if sensing her apprehension, he cradled her face, callous thumb grazing freckled cheek, and sucked and nibbled and devoured her mouth. She didn’t know kisses could render her starved rather than sated, a fire smoldering under her skin as she rocked herself against the long line of his body, wishing to mold herself into him, longing for the lines to blur. 

Rey had wanted this for so long she wasn’t sure what to do with him. She carded her fingers through his hair. She licked the quivering pulse in his throat. She chased beads of water down his chest with her lips. She raked her nails down his back and her mind raced through the endless possibilities of couplings. Her legs quaked and she wasn’t sure her knees would hold her up, especially as his lips traveled down the column of her neck, his hip digging into her belly, her breath burning in her throat as she fought to contain the gasps threatening to tumble from her lips. 

They stumbled from the shower, half mumbled words, verbal caresses, praising each other’s bodies. She wrapped herself around him, reveling in the bouncing of the mattress, the creak of the headboard as he let her fall and chased her up the bed. She wasn’t sure what enticed her more---the feral gleam in his eyes or the way he flipped her on her stomach, the tips of his fingers drawing lines of fire up her thighs, along her spine, carefully skimming the edge of her folds. She shuddered and nudged her legs wider, the bed bending as he settled between, laying a track of soft barely there kisses, his wet hair dragging along on her back, drops of water hissing as they met fevered flesh. 

She was the desert and he was the monsoon, overcoming, waves upon waves of greed and need and mouth and tongue, fingers delving between folds growing wetter with each delicate, seeking, touch. She wasn’t sure how he could be both filth and finery. She bloomed beneath his ministrations, a creeping rosy flush along her skin that sent him into a frenzy, ravaging her back, the nape of her neck, the back of knees, labored breathing as he struggled not to fuck her ragged even as she was flooded with wet and warmth. 

Her moans grew needier as he hitched her hips up and slid beneath her, tongue sinking into her, and she quivered around him, bruises sprouting from the nails he dug into her thigh. Her breasts grazed the scratchy bedcover and they ached, a steady pulsing that had her rubbing them, even as she rocked back, offering prayers for someone to slake her thirst, for him to grant her absolution. 

He lifted her up until she rested on her haunches, her body bare to hungry eyes that sought to memorize every molecule of bronzed skin. She held his gaze, held that hunger, crushed it to her, as she rolled her body over that mouth that sought to please. A pleasure as currency, an exchange of dreams between them, as his tongue rode her flesh, dipped and swirled, until he had wrung every last cry from her, sucking the floods, the monsoon drenching the desert at last. 

Her thighs burned from the incessant rubbing of his beard and her breasts yearned for his touch. She pitched to the side and he collapsed beside her, bemused and humming, as he skated fingers up her ribs. 

“Touch me,” she rasped.

“I can’t seem to stop,” he confessed. A clash of teeth, lips still unused to one another, and a drop of copper slid down her throat. It only added to her catalog of bruises and cuts--a testimony to a war being waged and won. 

“You are the one that I am lit for,” she told him and he buried her beneath him. She twined her legs around him, lifting, begging, and he thrust inside her, conjoined at last, nerve endings faltering as she could not process the wave of heat flooding through her. 

“Don’t tell me I’m beautiful,” she begged as his hips bore them along, a rough and uneven rhythm.

“Incandescent, rather,” he hummed as sounds of slick slapping flesh overrode his words. Her hoarse cry reverberated against his, twining and rising, as waves of pleasure rushed through spent limbs. The bed sagged beneath them, his harsh breath burning her neck, even as he pulled her closer to him.

No matter what happened next, she thought, I will always have this time. This moment where he kissed her tenderly, swept her hair back, and they floated in the safe haven of bliss in one another, lips coaxing more need for one another. Never had she been left hungrier than when she started, she thought, as she tucked her head under his chin and let his rumbling breaths rock her to sleep. 


End file.
